Old Drabbles I Forgot to Upload

He always got the strangest encounters on his smoke breaks.

“I need a place to hide, quick?” The panicked teen stage-whispered, glancing frantically into the darkness behind her. Wyatt opened the employee door, let her slip in, and acted like nothing had ever happened.

Almost immediately he heard numerous heavy footsteps, men yelling, saw a group of them round the corner towards him. He took another drag from his cigarette, watching them. They approached, slowly now, some holding weapons. They were trying to be intimidating. They weren’t the first or last thugs Wyatt would deal with.

“She went inside, didn’t she?” One of them said, brandishing a crowbar towards the door. 

“The girl that ran past?” Wyatt replied, raising an eyebrow

“We heard the door,” another growled.

“Yes, I needed to open it to walk outside. You sure are giving this lady a head start, aren’t you?”

“If you’re lying, you’ll regret it,” The first said.

“Of course,” Wyatt said, taking another smoke as they turned and ran off.

He sighed, looked ruefully at his unfinished cigarette, wishing he had at least had a few extra minutes with it before things went to hell again. Duty called, though. He tossed the half-burnt stick into the alley and went back inside. 

---

It was the ‘bitch of a brother.’ Max, he remembered. Seems he’d caught wind of Wyatt’s snooping, and didn’t seem very happy about it.

“Thought you were banned from the premises.” His tone was teasing, but Wyatt knew how to spot the nuance in the slant of the smile and the twitch in the eyebrows. 

“You’d think so, but as it turns out I still work with law enforcement, real bummer.”

“Think yourself a cop?”

“No, just an associate, really.” 

Max’s expression became difficult, a mixture of practiced nothings that ended up just making him look peeved. If he was anything like Piper, Wyatt might need to prepare himself for things to come to blows. He was no pushover, but he knew well that Piper could take him down with ease if she really wanted to. Here’s hoping he’s closer to Isaac in disposition.

“That’s good. We’re on the same page there. You’re not a cop.” Max leaned closer. “You’re just a criminal. Managed to get in good with some PI. You think you have everyone fooled, but we all know what you’re doing.” 

Ah, so he was more of a manipulator. Just as aggressive, but more of a psychological threat than the physical his sister posed.

Wyatt smiled.

“I’m not fooling anyone, Mr. Ewing. You’re absolutely right on that mark.” 

“Uh-huh. And I’m the queen of England.” Max rolled his eyes. “You have a reputation, even all the way over here, Keyes. The kind that doesn’t show up topside. You’d only hear it lurking around dark alleys or empty subways. You expect me to believe you’re clean?”

Wyatt could completely see where Pip was coming from, now. This guy was a little insufferable, wasn’t he? He kept his lax attitude, giving the shorter man a small shrug.

“Well, maybe I am just playing both sides. Maybe I’m the banker, huh? I’m not, but nothing I say is going to convince you.” 

Wyatt pulled out a cigarette, regarded it.

“Here’s the thing, of course. We all play by our own rules. You don’t ball with criminals.” His voice dropped low. “And I don’t deal to corrupt cops.”

He stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him, and lit his cigarette, taking a breath before starting his walk to the bus station. How the hell did he get himself wrapped up in Pip’s family drama, again?

… Probably when he got caught paging through that case. He’d have to keep in mind how late Layne liked to stick around after his shift ended. Either way, he’d be happy to never see that particular ginger again.

---

He closed the sliding door behind him and rifle through the pile of things on the couch, pulling out his heavy windbreaker and, after a bit too long of rummaging, his wallet. He frowned at the pile. He would have to get one of the kids to clean that up tonight. Tossing the jacket on his shoulder, he moved to turn off the coffee machine (lest he forget, and the plastic pot melt again,) and nabbed his keys from the hook. He slipped his jacket on and slipped out the door, making sure the lock was in place behind him. 

He looked down the hall, and sighed.

Delaying wouldn’t do him much good, so he began his trek. It was grey out that day. Not stormy, but a chill had set into the concrete. It kept Thomas feeling sleepy, even though he’d had his caffeine boost for the day already. Sometimes it felt like things just stayed the same, going to the same subway station every day, the same buildings looming, the same crowds bustling, even if the destination was new. He wondered if Flo had had any new bikes come in today. 

Thomas swiped his pass and found his way to his line. The subway had just arrived, so he had to jog to crush himself in. It was rush hour, but the mass of them found a way to make room. He was only going a couple stops over, anyways. 

“Hey,” he called when he spotted the other man, seemingly regarding a lighter in his hands. He looked up, orange hair, greenish eyes, and honestly Giada would have laughed at him for not noticing the resemblance sooner. There were some differences, but the man could probably pass as a younger version of him with ease. 

“Hey,” He replied, a difficult expression passing his face. He certainly wasn’t happy to see him. 

“Shall we?” Thomas nodded to the cafe behind him, and he looked back, nodded in reply, and stood straight, pocketing the lighter. He had a few inches on Thomas, he noted. He followed him in. 

The silence between them was tense as they ordered. Thomas wanted to pay for both, but Wyatt simply ordered separate. He got the feeling he wasn’t simply nervous, as Thomas was, but possibly resentful. This was likely going to be an unpleasant breakfast. 

They waited for their orders to be called in silence. 

It only took a few minutes of this to really get under Thomas’ skin, which was pretty laughable considering his profession. Then again, he was used to making the people across the table uncomfortable, not being made to be uncomfortable himself. He’d begun considering which icebreaker would work best.

---

“Now listen to me, Joseph,” Regan said, “this is the hard part, but you have to work tirelessly to make sure those people don’t get away with it.”

“What if they’re just good parents who made a mistake?” Joseph asked, turning bright, naive eyes up to hers.

“There are no good parents,” Regan said.